Leave Glenda alone

You start towards the stairs leading down into the lower decks of Skirmisher. You stop yourself at the door.

"I must have faith in her," you say. "If she is to abandon her vows with these sailors or be strong, it must be her free will."

This is her quest as much as your own. You cross back over the deck and descend into the captain's cabin. You are resting alone, reading an old naval atlas, when there is a knock at the door. Captain Rakins enters at your welcome. He strokes his beard and looks around the room.

"Where is your friend?" asks the captain. "Nevermind that, I am glad to have caught you alone."

He walks over and sits down on the bed beside you, throwing his booted feet up on the blanket and resting his hands behind his head.

"Ahhhhh, trust me, I miss this bed. Too old and long of shank for those flea-bitten bunks."

"I'm sure." You put aside the atlas and sit up in the bed so he does not get any untoward ideas. "What did you want, captain?"

"Yes, that. Well, we've made fantastic progress today and should be arriving in the harbor of Gerlangen in the early hours of the morning. So we will be parting ways."

You stare at him in the russet light of sunset filtering through the shutters. He is so very handsome, with his dark hair and his equally dark, mischievous eyes. He has the look of a dangerous man and you know his skill with a sword well enough. You wonder about his skill in other sorts of battle.

"Oh, and why were you glad to tell me this alone?" you ask, rolling onto your side and letting your fingers tease at the hem of your gown.

His eyebrow arches and the crease of his smile draws your gaze to his lips. He turns onto his side facing you in the bed, reaches out slowly and rests his hand on the curve of your hip. The contact is electrifying. You shudder involuntarily and you feel as if your teeth are going to start chattering.

"From the moment I saw you in that lighthouse, I wanted you, sister. You are as beautiful as fire in the cold darkness and your warmth touches my heart."

"Do you say that to the pretty girls in every port?" you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

"No, to you, Sabine. And when you fought by my side, I knew we were a perfect match." His hand reached to your chin and he curls a finger beneath it, looking into your eyes as he leans closer. "I ask only that you let me kiss you this--"

Your kiss interrupts his words. It is not shy nor testing, it is informed by the sunburst of passion within your body. Your lips press to his, your mouth opens and your tongues meet in a torrid instant. For a moment, nothing else exists in the world but that kiss. You barely know him and yet it seems an age you have spent together. He pulls you against him so that he can feel your softness and you his hardness of his muscles and his swelling cock in his trousers.

"Sabine," he gasps between kisses. "Your vow. Do not forget your vow."

His hand does not release you. His lips do not refuse you. It is your will and your desire that command what happens next.